TOPIC: Horror on the Orient Express - All Rotations

III THE LONG VERSION

Saturday 23rd February 1923

Headline News
Walking past a newspaper kiosk on a busy Victoria platform, a newspaper headline catches Cartwright’s only eye. He picks it up, unfolds the sheet and reads.



Bill the Cabbie
Exiting Victoria, a scruffy cab driver holds up a sign with the name “Macrat” on it. Ludwig tells the man he’s Makryat and asks where they’re going. Bill the Cabbie is to take us to 3 Brophy Lane, Islington—the address of Mehmet Makryat’s antique shop. The cab is a horse-drawn, four-wheeled Hackney. Big enough for six. In the cab we are all knocked out by a sleep-inducing drug.

A Different London
When we wake, London is blanketed in a wet, grey fog. The cab door is open and our cabbie is gone. So is our stuff—the Simulacrum, the scrolls and (to Ludwig’s dismay) the Mims Sahis. We find ourselves standing before a wrought iron gate. Beyond it, the cityscape is dominated by a cathedral with numerous spires, all reaching towards the purple-black sky above us. A page boy invites us to follow him across this strange London. We have been invited to see the Duc.

The Cathedral
Inside, the cathedral is vast. Black marble pillars stretch away from the west door entrance to the further end of the cathedral interior at the edge of our sight. The Duc is waiting for us at the high alter, outlined by the coloured twilight that peeps through the tall stained-glass windows. He wears fine robes of state and a gold mask which at certain angles appears to have the visage of a young boy floating across its otherwise smooth surface. As we approach, he raises his hand in benediction and bids us welcome, and invites us to eat. A table laden with a feast of roasts, sweet meats and wine materialises before us. We’re hungry. We eat and drink. Letty toasts the Duc’s health with a goblet of wine. Father Mika is the only one who refuses all refreshment, citing the whole place is an affront to God.

A Reminder of the Deal
The Duc speaks in a resigned and languid manner. We made a deal, but we haven’t delivered the goods. The Duc grows tired of us. He reminds us of our bargain: The Simulacrum and the scrolls, for our lives. We remind the Duc we asked for healing from our afflictions. Alas, the Scroll of the Left Hand (that which contains the Ritual of Cleansing to relieve us of our sufferings) is not in our possession, or his. He insists he never agreed to it anyway.

Delivery Instructions
We are to deliver the Simulacrum and the scrolls tomorrow at sunset to the barrow on Hamstead Heath. We are to leave the items on the ancient mound and leave. Cartwright spoke for us all when he replied to the Duc: ‘Fuck you, Dandy Legs. Eat up boys we’re leaving. There’s nothing in this deal for us!’ Cartwright walks away but collapses after a few steps. Father Mika rushes over but is unable to wake Cartwright from the deep unconscious state he’s fallen into.

The Scroll of the Left Hand
We don’t have it. The Duc says us he doesn’t have it. So where is the Scroll of the Left hand? Our only salvation. The Duc assures us we know exactly where it is.
‘No, we don’t!’
‘Yes, you do. You have always known.’
‘Oh,’ exclaims Ludwig, remembering the inaccessible trapdoor at Mehmet Makray’s Islington shop. It had always bothered him—what was so important to Makryat that he would conceal it behind a trapdoor with such an intricate lock.

Time to Think
No rush. The Duc invited us to explore his beautiful (creepy) cathedral while we make our minds up about agreeing to deliver the goods, so we might yet live. At a gesture from the Duc, Cartwright suddenly wakes. We take a wander.

The Chapel
In the chapel several figures kneel in a circle. Most are robed and hooded. Even with hoods it’s obvious that some of them have no faces—just smooth skin devoid of features. One young woman, in a plain Edwardian dress, has no hands. One man has a cavity in his chest. A ball of energy glows faintly in place of his absent heart. When asked about their conditions, the man with the cavity in his chest informs us his wife is lost and his heart is broken. The Edwardian woman tells us she was judged by the Prince. She was hungry. She also says, ‘The Prince’s promises are as empty as the dream he weaves and his honour is like his skin—a patchwork.’

The Library in the Cellar
Pierre descends the stone steps to what he believed would be the crypt. Instead, he stands in a long gallery full of books. There are no candles, no lamps and yet the gallery is adequately lit as if by supernatural means. He peruses the books. They are old and bound in cracked leather. On a reading stand at the end of the gallery an intriguing tome rests, its pages open. The pages are filled with diagrams and passages written in French. The rambling passages are in the form of journal entries spanning several years. Their messages are many but the more recent are preparatory rites and phrases. The diagrams are annotations, showing the pieces of the Simulacrum fitted to the Duc’s anatomical frame. The last written entry of text reads simply: ‘I shall be next.’ This tome was the working manual of the Duc. The others join Pierre and between them they try to remove the book, pick up the stand, deface the text, tear the pages, burn the tome—all to no avail. The book proved impervious to damage and impossible to lift.

The Campanologist
A discordant peal of bells assaulted our ears from one of several bell towers. We investigate the awful din. A weeping bell ringer with knotted and scarred hands pulls at a rope. His dried flesh is a stitched patchwork of many stolen pieces in a range of skin tones. The disputatious bong of the bell above is hellish. With each ring, everyone wanted to clap their hands to their ears (or strangle the bell ringer) to put an end to the assault of the terrible noise. Letty asks the man ‘Why do you ring the bell?’
Bong!
‘I am condemned to ring the bell until my hands have worn away.’
‘Why so?’
‘I failed my prince.’
Bong!

Time to Face the Jigsaw Prince
The Duc is waiting. Letty tells everyone we should just hand over the loot. She’s tired of all this crap and just wants to get healed. Everyone else questions the wisdom of complying with a dangerous psychopath. The Duc wants an answer. We cross our fingers behind our backs and promise the Duc we’ll take the items to Hamstead Heath at sunset tomorrow and leave them at the mound. Our duplicitous oaths have been extracted. The Duc waves a hand and the cathedral door opens.

Wakey, wakey
We step through and instantly wake up in the back of Bill the cabbie’s Hackney carriage. Bill the Cabbie is asleep sat at his driver’s post and the cab stands beside the kerb, outside 3 Brophy Lane. We gather our things (our treasures are all here) and step out onto the pavement.

I’ve been notified this afternoon that Doug and Jim won’t be coming tonight. In addition to Stew who is on his jollies that makes 3 players down. Given where you are on the scenario I don’t think it’s fair that we continue with the game tonight without those players, so I think we need to do something else.

I know it is late in the day but is there something anyone else can run tonight?